


Edge of the Night

by victorianvirgil



Series: A Melody of Burning Matches [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 80s band au, F/M, Implied M/M, M/M, Sympathetic Deceit, and deceit is not the main character in that work, explicit - Freeform, f/m - Freeform, happy late birthday deceit!!!, mac and I lowkey forgot and felt really fucking bad so sorry it’s late, thie is just a ficlet, this is part of a greater currently unnamed work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 13:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorianvirgil/pseuds/victorianvirgil
Summary: Draven Grey, raised in the darkest part of the city of lights that was New York City, had managed to crawl out of the poverty he had been born into upon joining Apparition, a band that rocked the world. He had always been in love with the idea of being a rockstar, and all of the benefits of being one: women, drugs, alcohol, fame, fortune, etc.; however, he never expected that a dark secret from his lead guitarist would emerge and he would be forced to keep.-Ficlet for A Melody of Burning Matches





	Edge of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!
> 
> so if you are reading this well before the fic is going to be posted, I am really sorry. here is your guide to figure these people out:
> 
> there are two bands  
> * Apparition - Deceit (Draven) is the drummer, Remy is the bassist, & Virgil is the guitarist (their singer is Thomas but that isn’t mentioned)  
> * Bloodline - Roman is the lead singer & Patton is the drummer (Logan is the guitarist but that isn’t mentioned)
> 
> This takes place DURING the actual fic whereas “Play Me a Memory” (the logicality fic mac wrote, 12/10 recommend) was about a year before.
> 
> Enjoy!

_July 11, 1983_

Draven Grey had always found comfort in darkness and the warm embrace that widened his pupils from whatever the post-show high each night brought, but long before he had found himself worshipped by a sea of thousands come sunset - women lustful and willing while the men yearned to be him - and before he reluctantly took his first sip of champagne at a New Year’s Eve party, he had always felt more at ease after the sun was silenced by a pitch black.

There was just something about looking up at a sky oozing with brilliant lights birthed light years away that fascinated him, and as a child, he would sit on his bed with his cheek pressed to the window pane, forcing his senses to hone in on the natural beauty of the world rather than his screaming parents just beyond the thin walls of his bedroom or the sirens around the street corner arresting the father of his future dealer.

Some nights, the stars were all he had.

However, those days were lost in time - the memories long since wrapped in chains and settled deep beneath the waves of his subconscious - and certainly weren’t at all what he was thinking about upon having a girl pressed to either side and three lines of white powder begging to be dealt with. They had his attention for the time being, and the dimmed lights of the room allowed his vices to mimic the stars he had fallen for years ago with their own luminosity. They should have gleamed red like a warning sign rather than their enchanting snow-white of pale skin and powder.

Remy had convinced the girl to the drummer’s left - a blonde little thing with a small mouth that he was tempted to rip open with his cock every time she looked his way - that it was his birthday, and she had placed a glass ashtray on Draven’s head in place of a crown, her gift the soft hand lingering on his inner thigh and the mindless tracings of the tips of her fingers. A promise of sorts. The girl to his right - a brunette with hair far shorter than he liked on a chick - seemed far more interested in the lines cut before them than in Draven’s body, but she kept herself pressed to his side and didn’t mind the fact that the hand he had placed on her back had dipped beneath her shirt and brushed over her bare hip.

They were both willing, but of course they were; Draven was a rockstar with unlimited access to the strongest drugs, and as far as they were concerned, it was his birthday. And Draven was convinced that every girl believed in treating a guy on his birthday, so when he felt as though he was high enough, he would take them both into the nearest bathroom and allow all the images that had been crossing his mind to manifest. Because who knew that the Middle-Of-Nowhere, Midwest was home to such beautiful women with such delicious bodies? Certainly not him, but he knew that he would become well-acquainted with them before the dreaded drive to New Orleans.

When he was handed the ivory straw, he pressed it to his nose and grinned as he snorted his line, ignoring the sound of glass shattering at his heels. The ashtray.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, but the next thing he knew, the blonde was in his lap and his tongue was down her throat, one hand gripping her hip and the other snarled in her hair to pull her deeper into him. She moaned against him but it wasn’t until the brunette finished the last line and squeezed his crotch did he verbally respond with a grunt of his own.

He pulled away, pupils dilated as he stared between the two with his dick hardening by the second and it took all of his strength not to fuck them then and there on the couch.

“Want one?” he asked Remy - or rather, in Remy’s general direction - in reference to the girls. He thought himself polite for offering but his bandmate didn’t even look at him, so deep in conversation with Bloodline’s drummer Patton that he didn’t even hear him.

 _More for me_ , he thought to himself, shoving the blonde out of his lap and grabbing Remy’s abandoned bottle from the coffee table in front of them as he rose to his feet. The girls watched as he tilted his head back and chugged the bottle, giggling as they stumbled to the door.

“D?”

Draven turned, glancing back at Remy then. While the bassist drank, fucked, and shot up as much as the next guy, Draven always trusted him when it came to tell him that enough was enough and to lay off a bit with whatever vice he was consumed with that night. It didn’t always stop him from taking more, but he knew that he was beyond the point of no return for the night and would have to battle a killer hangover or kick out a girl out come morning.

“Happy birthday.”

A go ahead if Draven had ever heard one.

He grinned, winking his way - although he wasn’t entirely sure if he had just blinked - before spinning on his heel and pulling the girls along with him.

Sometimes, Draven forgot that parties housed more than just drugs, too coked up to comprehend much of anything; the voices of dozens of people and even the stench of alcohol faded to black as he lost himself in a world of white powder and silver syringes. But he wasn’t that far gone and he could feel the pulse of the music in the marrow of his bones - one of Apparition’s songs, but that was hardly a surprise with all of their fans kissing their asses - and the sweat of the people pressed together filled his nostrils as it mingled with the gallons of beer being consumed by said people every minute.

It surprised him that he had forgotten what had been so damn appealing about parties in the first place all those years ago, but he smothered any sense of his amazement in favor of acting aloof. He had a reputation, after all, even if it was his pretend birthday and he could probably get away with just about anything.

Every person they accidentally bumped into profusely apologized upon realizing who Draven was before rambling about the show, Draven’s talent, the genius of Apparition, and of course, about the fact that they were so lucky to have Draven here on his birthday _and please, this drink’s on me, Mr. Grey._

And he took them all, every sip until the already-blurred world around him darkened into something unrecognizable, something that he was far too used to after all his years in an alternative reality the drugs and beer took him to.

The door to the bathroom was unlocked so none of them bothered knocking, the blonde - the most sober of the trio - taking it upon herself to turn the knob while giggling at the expression Draven made as the brunette slipped one of her hands beneath the band of his jeans and squeezed his dick until it ached.

“Virgil!” the brunette screamed, withdrawing her hand when she managed to peel her eyes away from Apparition’s drummer and spotted its lead guitarist, the filthy grin across her lips turning even more sinful as she looked at the disheveled man. He was standing a foot away from a man a hair taller than him, Draven squinting as he waited for his eyes to adjust.

“Hello,” he nodded toward the girl - her name having long since slipped from Draven’s mind and it was only with his guitarist present did he even realize it. Virgil then glanced back at the man with his back still pressed to the wall, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“They’re all yours, D,” he said before turning his eyes Draven’s way and truly winking - his signature suave persona sported with the girls present - as he stepped out of the bathroom and walked straight into the suffocating waves of the party without a look back.

Draven’s gaze followed him until he was lost in the crowd and even then, the brunette tugged at his chin to pull him into a kiss. They were still in the hallway just outside of the bathroom, but that didn’t stop her from grinding her hips against his and averting his attention from Virgil Irons to Draven inevitably shoving himself into her tight warmth.

The blonde watched, eyes darkening but Draven couldn’t see and she was desperate for him, so desperate that she stormed into the bathroom and pulled at the man that had been inside with Virgil and could clearly not take a hint.

“Hey, buddy,” she hissed, grabbing his wrist and tugging him out into the hallway.

In her disoriented state, she had pulled him into Draven and the brunette causing them to stumble and for the man to actually fall.

Draven looked down as the brunette in his arms hollered with laughed, a smile on his lips until he saw just who the man was.

Roman Prince was red in the face, his chest heaving as he struggled to his feet.

“Uh . . .” he began, seemingly unsure of what to say. And Draven couldn’t blame him, not when the two of them had been so careless as to be stumbled on. “Tell him I don’t want to see him ever again, that bastard.”

Draven wasn’t fucked up enough to believe a single word as the other sauntered off, presumably to fuck Draven’s bandmate. They hadn’t been fighting, not like Thomas had claimed they did whenever the two of them were alone.

Draven’s world was spinning violently as the girls pulled him into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him and locking as one of the girls - now indistinguishable from the other - dropped to her knees and pulled his jeans down to his ankles.

The other was slowly stripping, the hallway light slipping beneath the cracks of the door barely revealing her erect nipples and dripping pussy that Draven had craved to see, or at least until the image of Virgil and Roman took over.

He couldn’t get it out of his head, not until the small lips of the blonde parted and wrapped around his length. Virgil, Roman, and every other man he had ever met were suddenly gone as he was embraced by the thoughts of women.  Bulging tits, firm asses, tiny legs and hot, hot lips that God had graciously given to them between their legs. He reached out and the other girl was there, kissing him with all the strength she could muster while he slipped a finger into her warmth and kneaded her breast.

And as the substances finally started to kick in, the world faded into a warm, comforting darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> hi again
> 
> so god, here it is. I know.
> 
> I have been working on the concept for this fic for awhile now (and we still have a ways to go) but I needed something to post for D’s birthday and was like hey, why not.
> 
> please note that d is not the focal point of the fic I am writing (the currently unnamed fic that’s like 20k already), it is instead about roman and virgil (through roman’s point of view). it takes place in the summer of ‘83 and well, it’s not exactly easy for them.
> 
> anyway, mac and I will be uploading these short ficlets throughout my time working on the Big Fic(tm) just to build characters, keep you interested, and just allow both ourselves and you all to be involved in the world of the fic. I kind of love it, honestly, mac made a playlist on her spotify and it’s crazy how there are nearly 100 songs on it now (will be shared at a later date, dw)
> 
> if there was anything confusing about this, please let me know! I am so deep in this world that I hardly remember what you guys might not know and I’ll be happy to explain!
> 
> thank you so much for reading though, I hope you are just as excited as I am. and of course, happy late birthday, d, thank you for making this possible <3  
> -ronnie


End file.
